Dabo Swinney & the Problem with American Christianity

Coach Dabo Swinney doesn’t think black football players ought to use their influence to protest racial injustice. He also thinks we don’t really have a race problem, but a sin problem, and the solution is more Christianity. By Christianity, Coach Swinney means a conservative evangelical American Christianity that reinforces institutional racism. A bit harsh? Dabo told people who are unhappy with the status quo to just leave the country — the preferred comeback of white supremacists all over social media. Another favorite among white folks who are too afraid to admit that racism is real is to pacify Martin Luther King, Jr.’s radical message and ministry. Dabo did that, too. But his most egregious sin was when Swinney implied that people ought to be more Christian and stop protesting the American flag — thus syncretizing Christianity with American nationalism — which is contradictory to the gospels at best and blasphemous at worst.

However, I understand where Swinney is coming from. Many Christians like him are peaceful and loving folks with strong moral compasses. But all that really proves is that people are capable of being both incredibly nice and misinformed. In fact, outright racists are some of the sweetest people you’d ever meet. How else could the South be easily stereotyped as both racist and hospitable? I certainly gave in to the status quo as a conservative evangelical — voting for Bush in 2004 and McCain in 2008 — believing firmly that Obama was the perfect example that racism is dead. Well, eight years later and it is abundantly clear that overt racism had only been a dormant volcano. And over the years I’ve listened and learned that covert (systemic) racism is even more prominent and dangerous.

That said, I have been encouraged by some Christian friends and family members who have made a turn toward speaking out against racial injustice. I think many good-hearted people of faith are ripe for understanding how justice for the oppressed is central to the entire Bible, and certainly foundational to the gospels. However, getting people to understand systemic racism is only half the battle, as the problem is deeply rooted in all of our major institutions — among which the church is not immune.

For instance, mainstream American pastors throughout this country need to earn a living, and in my experience this often means that their affluent church members become their closest advisors and friends. “Affluent” is the key word, as affluence in this country is predominantly older, Caucasian, male and conservative. Yes, even churches (perhaps even most churches) suffer from systemic white supremacy. A byproduct of this reality is that Christianity becomes convoluted with an economic conservatism that violates the core values of the gospels — justice, inclusivity, and being intentional about meeting the needs of our neighbors.

As a member of an evangelical church for most of my adult life, I experienced a lot of pressure to convert people to my church’s brand of Christianity. However, when there were examples of ministries converting numerous economically disadvantaged people, it was met with resistance from ministry leaders to focus on wealthier potential converts. I’ve also visited trendy churches in predominantly affluent white neighborhoods with predominantly affluent white fellowships who are eager to proselytize their predominantly affluent white neighborhoods; I’ve also visited diverse churches with an all white staff. I once sat in an all-Hispanic church that invited an elderly white minister to preach a guest sermon — the sermon centered around George Washington’s example of the type of Christian leadership we need today.

History has proven that religion and nationalism do not mesh well, and America in 2016 is no different. This isn’t an intentional problem among most rank and file Christians, the problem is misinformation; it’s about the convenience and comfort of maintaining the status quo. Perhaps this is why Jesus was a homeless transient by choice, and why Paul followed in his footsteps — money corrupts, and money is the American way.

I believe this is precisely what Paul was talking about when he said, “Nevertheless, we have not made use of this right [to be paid for ministry], but we endure anything rather than put an obstacle in the way of the gospel of Christ” (1 Cor. 9:12b). Paul would not allow himself to be patronized by the wealthy in Corinth, who apparently had a problem with donating money to Paul for his ministry work. He supported his ministry with his own labor as he imitated Jesus. In fact, Paul is constantly defending himself in his epistles; epistles that could only be read by the literate elite (as 90% of the ancient world were illiterate subsistent farmers and day laborers). Perhaps the Corinthian elite didn’t appreciate how Paul constantly defended the poor in Corinth at their expense — as he does in nearly every chapter of 1 Corinthians.

Paul then goes on to say the following:

“Though I am free and belong to no one, I have made myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law. To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law), so as to win those not having the law. To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some. I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings. (1 Cor. 9:20–23).

First, Paul began this exhortation with a radical illustration — the wealthy patrons who could afford the privilege of literacy who were reading Paul’s letters basked in their privilege as free Roman citizens, some owning slaves themselves. Paul says he uses his freedom to make himself a slave to everyone in his desire to share the gospel. And in the context of refusing money from the wealthy in Corinth so as not to strangle the gospel’s message, Paul undermines their patronage with an egalitarian message of inclusivity that was foreign in the ancient world. Paul did this for the sake of the gospel (i.e. good news), which is defined by Jesus thusly:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
 because he has anointed me
 to bring good news to the poor.
 He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
 and recovery of sight to the blind,
 to let the oppressed go free,
 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor” (Luke 4:18–19).

Now, imagine a minister who defended the poor and the oppressed every Sunday; who taught us that communion is for the hungry as much as it is for the broken. In fact, it was Jesus who told the wealthy young ruler to sell all of his possessions and give it to the poor before following him. That wealthy young ruler walked away grieving, for he had many possessions. Wealth implied social, political and familial prestige that was not accessible to the poor in first century Judea, a definition of privilege that is not unlike what we have today — where a white football coach from South Carolina who makes $5million a year from the free labor and bodily harm of mostly black athletes feels perfectly comfortable telling people of color, whose forebears were forcibly removed from their homeland to be slaves on a foreign continent that then perpetuated a legacy of racism and white supremacy, that they should move to another country if they don’t like it. In response, much of American Christendom hailed him as a hero and naturally gifted preacher.